


Three Moments in a Laboratory

by Lepidopteran (lepi)



Series: Earn Your Way Back [9]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Body Modification, Canon-Typical Violence, First Time, Involuntary Reactions, M/M, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Pseudoscience, Scraplets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3653070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lepi/pseuds/Lepidopteran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soundwave and Megatron spend time together, entirely alone, without even Soundwave's partners for company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't a three-chapter story so much as it is (will be) three ficlets along a similar theme, taking place in the same span of time.

_Scraplets!_

Soundwave stopped dead as all the warning signs registered and compiled into one inescapable truth. A thousand scenarios went through his head. Laserbeak: devoured. Megatron: devoured. After those, _Soundwave: devoured_ was not as terrifying an outcome, and far less likely thanks to his electricity output mods, but the thought of _Laserbeak: beyond repair_ sent all of Soundwave's combat protocols into overdrive.

"Is something the matter, Soundwave?" Megatron asked, turning towards him. Before Soundwave could answer, the telltale hum of an awakened swarm became audible. Megatron's eyes widened, and he turned to face the sound, backing up a few steps.

_Laserbeak: eject. Operation: protect newsparks._

Laserbeak actually gave a minute quiver of uncertainty before complying. But Laserbeak understood the necessity. Without Soundwave having to worry about protecting his chest, there was a much higher chance of Megatron's survival, and the orders also guaranteed that Laserbeak would return to the one place in this world that a Minicon could find a new partner.

Laserbeak didn't want a new partner. Laserbeak wanted Soundwave to survive.

Soundwave didn't bother with reassurances. Laserbeak might be reluctant, but orders were orders, and Soundwave could feel the retreat through coordinate pings. The scraplets would have no interest in such a small source of living metal when Soundwave and Megatron stood closer.

"So," Megatron said. "It seems we have a new problem that must be dealt with before we can use this laboratory." His voice would sound calm to all but the closest observer, but Soundwave knew Megatron better than any. He had watched his leader for vorns. Megatron hated small things: the smaller the being, the more their deadliness stuck under Megatron's plating. Soundwave's Minicons were tolerated because they fought for the Decepticons, and because Soundwave had worked hard to make all of them invaluable allies.

Scraplets, on the other hand, were as close to a nightmare as Megatron had. Up-and-coming and disgraced gladiators in the arena were normally given the task of clearing out any imminent scraplet infestations, but for one hellish orn even the most prized gladiators had been pitted against a hoard of scraplets for the amusement of someone very rich and very twisted— from within a containment field, of course, so that no spectator would find so much as a chip in his plating. The extra energon had been all that kept the gladiators from rioting then and there, but Megatron himself had not been so easily pacified. He hadn't powered down for orns afterwards; he'd stayed in his hard-won quarters with a datapad, claws flying across the screen with a savage grace. Soundwave had observed this, then allowed Megatron his privacy.

Now, though, with all of Soundwave's protective coding hooking onto Megatron's battered new frame, the instinct to _step in, protect_ overwhelmed him. He could no longer ignore the way Megatron's optics dimmed and his claws clenched for a second before he curved them out.

Unicron, Soundwave remembered, had removed Megatron's long-range weaponry.

Soundwave: must protect. Soundwave: cannot let Megatron know he is being protected.

Soundwave scanned the room as the hum grew louder. The swarm had to be new, not an established hive, or the laboratory wouldn't have registered as functional. Likely the cyberforming had woken some long-dormant colonies barely surviving on the remaining deadened metal. But if the laboratory hadn't been stripped down, that meant anti-scraplet protocols should be equipped.

There, on the other side of the laboratory: Soundwave identified them just as the scraplets began to stream in. The nozzles looked to be jammed or broken, but he could fix that if he got close enough. Grimly determined, he loosed his feelers and sent as much electricity as he could handle through them, ignoring the pain that sent to his warning systems. He disabled alarm after alarm as they popped up on his visor display and began to walk towards the nozzle, swinging his feelers to dispense the charge to as many scraplets as possible.

He couldn't get them all, of course. He could feel them burrowing into the metal on his long arms, on the tip of his helmet. Behind him, he could hear Megatron's roars and the crunch of metal.

At the anti-scraplet nozzles, Soundwave had to turn his attention to repair instead of scraplets, and several took that opportunity to burrow into his back. Scraplets: ignore. Nearing armor breach: redirect energon to vital systems. Nozzles: require delicate work with feelers to remove debris. Scraplets: ignore, ignore, ignore.

Soundwave found himself jarred from his work by a much closer roar and the sensation of claws raking down his back. He twitched reflexively, but Megatron was not trying to take him offline— Megatron had removed upwards of ten scraplets with that single stroke, one of whom had been nearing the soft metal platelets under the main armor that protected Soundwave's spark.

There was no time or reason for verbal thanks. Instead, Soundwave returned all of his concentration to the task in front of him until the nozzle gave a warning blip and began to spew anti-scraplet gel. The gunk, as it was imprecisely known, would clog up a scraplet's smaller, more basic systems and render them incapable of functioning. Soundwave immediately turned the hose on Megatron, gesturing for his lord— his friend— to turn around so that Soundwave could be sure of termination of all scraplets. When he had doused Megatron and the rest of the swarm, Megatron snarled and grabbed the nozzle to point it at Soundwave.

The gel burned, but not to the degree that a scraplet's whirring teeth did. Soundwave assessed the damage: loss of armor function. Self-repair unlikely. Conclusion: use laboratory supplies to conduct repairs.

"Well," Megatron said heavily into the silence. "That was certainly unexpected."

Soundwave tilted his head to the side in wry agreement. At least from here, he was close enough to hook into the laboratory systems and start compiling resources that he would need for his own frame repair as well as Megatron's more dramatic rebuild.

"Soundwave."

He turned his head to Megatron again, curious. Had Megatron changed his mind? He would need repairs from the scraplet attack anyway; Soundwave could see countless new furrows in addition to the accumulated damage the likes of which Soundwave had never seen Megatron tolerate for longer than a few orns. He flashed the current supply tally in his visor so that Megatron could see what he was doing.

But Megatron wasn't reading his visor. He had lifted a clawed hand— one finger: missing— and pressed it to the side of Soundwave's helmet, too hard at first, then too gentle. _Megatron: inexperienced with affection._

"Soundwave," he said again, then stopped. The voice of the Decepticons, who had not faltered in the face of defeat, who had kept his pride to the point where many had called it arrogance or madness, had no words for this. His speeches had once found the ear of Orion Pax, had motivated the leader that the Autobots still clung to in the shape of Optimus Prime. His words had led two armies to a war that had lasted vorns.

Soundwave almost reached up with a feeler, but he thought better of it and raised a hand to Megatron's face instead, letting Megatron mimic his movements until Megatron's claws were cupped tenderly around Soundwave's helm. Soundwave opened his visor with a quiet click as Megatron leaned forward to press their helms together just above the optics.

For the richer Cybertronians who had come to see the gladiatorial fights, a touch of helms might have been a prelude to some deeper intimacy, a meeting of mouths or chests. But gladiators were not built to be tender. Megatron had carved his dental plate himself to make his mouth into a ripping weapon, and _that_ modification Unicron had kept. Soundwave had no dental plate; instead, his mouth rested low and opened oddly, giving the impression that his facial plates were splitting apart. He had been designed to resemble ancient tales of sparkeaters, able to fit their mouth around someone's spark and swallow in whole.

Gladiators: inspire fear and terrified lust, not tender romance.

Soundwave: does not feel fear when looking at Megatron. Megatron: does not feel fear when looking at Soundwave.

Soundwave kept quietly compiling data in the background, though he kept his attention focused on Megatron's loud vents and the feel of hot air brushing his normally sheltered face. "Interface: inadvisable," he said finally. "Laboratory will be prepared for reconstruction."

Megatron pulled back and stared for a moment, then tipped his head back and laughed. Soundwave had not heard Megatron laugh since before his death, not with this level of genuine amusement. "You have to admit, if our fallen enemies were not mere scraplets, crossing cables over their bodies would be very fitting for two of our kind."

"Interfacing while leaking energon is inadvisable," Soundwave repeated. He rested his bare optics on Megatron for a moment longer before closing the visor and putting in the command for the laboratory to assemble the needed materials. He indicated with the visor that his own energon leaks needed to be attended to before he could proceed with Megatron's frame modifications.

"Correct as always, Soundwave," Megatron said, his mouth curved up and his optics bright. "Well, then. We shall begin your repairs." Soundwave tilted his head; it sounded as though Megatron intended to assist. Megatron's smile widened. "Of course. You didn't think you could reach your back by yourself, did you? You already sent Laserbeak away."

Soundwave had. But Soundwave had a number of options. He could recall Laserbeak easily now that the scraplet threat had been neutralized, or he could repair without a secondary visual, using only his feelers and the sensation of touch. But the prospect of entrusting his leaking energon and damaged back plating to Megatron's unwieldy claws was intriguing.

He nodded, optics fixed on Megatron's smile. Soundwave would never play it back to anyone, not with Megatron still as Unicron had designed him, but Soundwave would keep this moment tucked away in his drives for himself, to remember how long the smile lasted.


	2. Chapter 2

Soundwave recharged only long enough to power up critical self-repair systems after Megatron finished the welds. Megatron, he advised, should not recharge, since Soundwave would need to disable his self-repair temporarily anyway. And so Megatron sat for an orn and a half, allowing Soundwave to lose himself in the task. It wasn't until Soundwave had nearly finished his work on the lines of Megatron's face, smoothing the protometal into a shape that Megatron's memory banks would recognize more easily, when Megatron reached up and gripped Soundwave's feeler with strong claws. The work here was slow and required Soundwave to use careful pulses of electricity to temporarily disable Megatron's facial sensors; perhaps it had worn off. Soundwave ceased his work and tilted his head, sending a querying crackle through his feeler.

"No, Soundwave, I am not so weak that I require anesthesia." Megatron loosened his grip, but Soundwave stayed frozen, still questioning. Megatron would not have stopped him without a reason. After a moment, Megatron let out a heavy sigh, though his face remained motionless. "You are used to doing delicate work, are you not? Laserbeak did not have those feeler modifications until after you received your own."

Soundwave nodded; Decepticons doctors rarely had the expertise to operate on Minicons, which was part of the reason Soundwave had chosen to deflect his primary sensory ability to such flexible appendages. Laserbeak's own modifications had been made by Soundwave himself, based on what he had recorded during his own surgery. As a result, Laserbeak had survived, while all the other Minicons had gone to the Well of All Sparks.

But now, Minicons: alive again. Soundwave: will protect them.

Megatron locked his optics on Soundwave's visor screen and moved his claws up Soundwave's feeler, sending a burst of unexpected pleasure ricocheting through Soundwave's sensory net. He remained still, but that tiny crackle of pleasurable charge jumped to Megatron's body right over his chest armor, and Megatron himself shuddered. "Among other things, I believe that Unicron may have removed this frame's manual discharge abilities."

Immediately, horrified, Soundwave dissipated the charge and scrolled through the medical scans to confirm Megatron's analysis. No, Soundwave had made no oversight. He called the data up on his visor: Unicron had altered the pathways but not the underlying hardware. Megatron would not burn himself out. Megatron's expression didn't change; it couldn't, at the moment, but he continued as though he hadn't seen the data Soundwave was showing him. "I have been considering the usefulness of a weaponized discharge mechanism, as well."

Soundwave tilted his head. _"The Decepticons are no more,"_ he played back in Megatron's voice.

"And you know as well as I that no war does not mean no battle." Megatron's hand moved down to one of the rivulets a scraplet had left in his chest, tracing it. "And unlike your Minicons, I doubt the rest of our newsparks are going to come online with battle protocols."

Ah. Megatron: worried for Orion Pax.

Soundwave considered this, then flashed several possibilities across his visor in turn. Megatron dismissed every one of them, stopping only at what appeared to be a vanity mod. It was not; the specs gave the owner an addition charge resistance and surrounded the brain module specifically. It also allowed temperature regulation and a close range attack for opponents close at hand. Especially, considering their weakness to relatively minor amounts of electricity, scraplets. "What is this?" Megatron murmured, reaching up to trace the specs on Soundwave's visor. Soundwave held very, very still. Finally, Megatron's hand dropped again. "I want that, Soundwave. And I want it hidden. No doubt my enemies would take it as a sign of weakness."

Greatly daring, Soundwave reached down to stroke Megatron's help with the soft protometal of his feelers. Megatron's optics widened, and he made a startled noise. It looked as though his sensory net had come back online— the effects of a localized anesthetic did not last long— but before Soundwave could reassure Megatron that any strangeness to the sensation was normal, Megatron's chest plating gave a heavy groan and began a retraction sequence with squeals like metal being ripped apart.

Megatron's optics widened further still. "Soundwave? What is happening?"

Helplessly, Soundwave displayed the visual onscreen as thick plates designed for maximum spark protection slid aside to bare a spark that pulsed a frantic but healthy rhythm. Soundwave wanted nothing more than to touch, but as Megatron's disused mechanics began to squeal even more desperately, Soundwave instead took the liberty of attacking his feeler to Megatron's systems through the vulnerable cords of his neck and finding the proper command for Megatron's chestplates.

Megatron vented out as they closed once more. "Well, that was certainly unexpected," he said, the tension in his body belying the ease of his words.

Not so unexpected as all that, Soundwave thought, though he wouldn't have expected it from Megatron. Atmosphere: charged. Desire: exists. Soundwave: trusted. And yet there had been no interfacing prior to this. Soundwave stayed in Megatron's systems just long enough to write a path to the controls into Megatron's awareness, then withdrew and waited for instructions.

Megatron's fists curled and uncurled at his side. "This is not Unicron's doing, is it," he said. It wasn't a question, but Soundwave nodded. Unicron would have even less desire to bare Megatron's spark, as he himself did not have one and medical access would never be necessary. "I simply… wanted to."

Soundwave raised his feelers in inquiry, then lowered them as it occurred to him that his intended question could be misinterpreted. "Continue frame modifications?" he asked instead.

A startled laugh burst from Megatron's vocoder, too wild to be anything but a release of tension. "Anyone else, Soundwave! Anyone else would have taken advantage of this. You have me vulnerable and at your mercy. Even my traitorous spark works against me."

"Soundwave does not." Soundwave displayed Megatron's chosen schematic. "Your spark chamber would not be bared if you believed Soundwave intended harm. Involuntary retraction is a sign of safety, disease, or hacking. Megatron has not been hacked. Megatron is healthy." _Megatron: feels safe._

"Hmph." Megatron settled back, resting his claws spread out over his chest, as though without them his chest would break open once again.

Soundwave hesitated before reaching back towards Megatron's face. He had some responsibility in this; even the controlled bursts of anesthetizing charge had likely contributed to accidental rerouting, especially as it began to dissipate. He would be more careful in keeping the anesthesia steady until he had finished the procedure. He would also be careful not to show affection to Megatron until the modifications were finished. He flashed the schematics again.

Megatron's face went slack again, but his vocoder rumbled. "Yes. Do it while we're still here. Remove Unicron's helmet and make the modifications."

Soundwave nodded; while the helmet was removed, he could also smooth it down into a shape that Megatron would find more familiar. Soothed by the comfort of having instructions to adhere to, he set to work finishing Megatron's facial modifications as he mapped out what materials he would need for the delicate task of constructing flexible conductive head plating.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where most of the pseudoscience lives, as well as me cheerfully borrowing from TF fandom's collective pool of wonderful, creative ideas about giant robot intimacy and putting them into a blender on high. And mixing metaphors, apparently.

Megatron exulted after Soundwave finished the modifications. Soundwave could not restore Megatron's frame to its original specifications, nor had Megatron asked him to: Soundwave had focused primarily on Megatron's face and helm, as requested, linking delicate electrical platelets and filing down Unicron's distinctive points. Megatron's face had lost Unicron's strange, stretched look, and the flexible protometal of his faceplate moved more easily into Megatron's familiar expressions.

With the helm off, Megatron's platelets could extend into a locked formation with rippling currents through it, crackling from one tip to another. After a long while watching himself in the feedback video, experimenting with the charge— and once with Soundwave stepping in to remove some of the worst of it before it could discharge into Megatron's shoulder spikes— Megatron flattened his platelets against his head and put his helmet back on with a distinctive click as his neural systems locked into the sensory net there.

"Galvanization," he murmured. "An appropriate way to reclaim this frame." He turned to Soundwave with a glint in his optics. "Spar with me, Soundwave. We shall test these modifications of yours in battle."

Soundwave inclined his head. He'd expected this, despite Megatron's occasional flirtations during the process. The way to reclaim a frame wouldn't be to cross cables; it would be to draw energon with it.

They had sparred while protecting the newsparks, but it had always been restrained, stopping short at dents and scrapes so that they would not be incapacitated should the Predacons— or the Autobots, or even former Decepticons— attack. But now, with the Minicons up and about and Laserbeak with them (currently snuggled up to Ravage and watching Frenzy and Rumble bicker with the Autobot Minicons, as of Soundwave's last ping) they could be selfish. They could fight not to kill, but to injure. Megatron: needs this. Soundwave: does not need this. But Soundwave: will enjoy this.

The one concession Megatron made was to exclude guns. Gunfire would draw unwanted attention. And, Soundwave suspected, Megatron was more interested in the intimacy of a close dance with claws and feelers. Soundwave agreed: the lighter frame he wore now might appear to be weaker, but he had speed and agility on his side, six limbs instead of four, and his feelers could extend far beyond the range of Megatron's arms or new platelets. The match would be an even one.

Silence reigned during the match, which lacked any of Megatron's usual boasts. This, Soundwave thought, was something special. Megatron would not boast because he was not assured of his victory, because there was nobody he needed to proclaim his superiority to. The only people in this fight were Soundwave and Megatron, testing familiar strength and unfamiliar limits.

Soundwave lost himself in the dance, in the rapid recalculation of each movement as he worked hard to keep a step ahead of Megatron at all times. He had no Minicons to protect, nothing to lose. He had Megatron's complete attention, and Megatron had his. he could feel the ache of the clumsily applied patches on his back as he moved.

In the end, it was a draw. Soundwave had a feeler drilling against Megatron's chestplate, right over his spark, and Megatron's claws thrust deep in Soundwave's shoulder when the ripple of unexpected electricity came down from Megatron's platelets. Soundwave grounded himself quickly with the other feeler, but outside of those specially constructed conduits, he had no more resistance to an electrical attack than anyone would. Megatron, well aware of that, grinned, and Soundwave tapped him once with the drilling feeler before they both stepped away.

"You may need a doctor," Megatron said as he withdrew his claws and inspected the damage. "The tears in the energon lines should be easy to patch, at least."

 _"We shall begin your repairs,"_ Soundwave played back in Megatron's voice, and Megatron laughed.

"Perhaps when the leaks are fixed, you will show me how to cross cables before we return to our audience," he said as they retreated back into the laboratory. "I find myself curious and in possession of too much charge."

Soundwave tilted his head. Show…? His processor whirled and clicked immediately on the obvious conclusion: Megatron: has never interfaced.

"Megatron, have you engaged in assisted discharge?" Soundwave felt compelled to ask as he sat down and allowed Megatron to seal new patches over the leaks in his armor.

Megatron's optics flickered to Soundwave's visor. "A long time ago," he said.

Soundwave could piece together a complete picture from that heavy tone of voice and the evidence he already possessed. He inclined his head. Megatron: practiced assisted discharge with Orion Pax, possibly others before that. None since. Megatron: has not interfaced. Megatron: has not known another's touch on his spark casing.

Soundwave: wants to do all this for Megatron.

He reached for Megatron with his arms as soon as Megatron finished his task. Megatron's energon lines had no leaks; his armor would need additional metal to help self-repair, but that could wait until later. Soundwave stroked down Megatron's reconfigured faceplate, watching for any sign of negative emotion. Megatron's optics flickered, almost unreadable for a moment before he reached for Soundwave in turn. His claws scraped clumsily across Soundwave's plating.

For a moment, Soundwave wondered how Megatron and Orion Pax had touched each other, that this sort of gentleness felt so new. Surely Megatron would not have hurt Orion Pax; he had always been enamored of that delicate, weaponless frame and the deceptive strength of will it contained. But Megatron's frame had always been heavy and capable of withstanding a great amount of internal and externally generated charge, just like Soundwave's. More likely, the two of them had pressed together and rubbed entire frames against one another. The gentleness Megatron would never admit to, then, would have been in making sure the discharge took place before it could critically damage Orion Pax's less reinforced systems.

Soundwave found the idea of that level of focus from Megatron almost as appealing as what Megatron was doing now, which was scraping claws over Soundwave's armor, searching for Soundwave's interface paneling.

Soundwave smiled under the visor, then retracted it so that Megatron could see. When Megatron looked up, Soundwave pressed their helms together, tight and close. _"You hid your interface equipment?"_ he played back in Frenzy's incredulous voice.

Megatron startled, then laughed. "Of _course_ you did! So, Soundwave, is this going to be a game, or will you tell me?"

Soundwave sent the smile to his visor by instinct even as his mouth gaped further in a grin that would have horrified almost anyone else. He tilted his head and stroked his own fingers over Megatron's more traditionally positioned paneling, opposite his transformation cog.

"A game it is," Megatron chuckled, and his claws began to skim over Soundwave's armor with more assurance. Soundwave shifted into the sensation, venting hot air soundlessly and clutching at Megatron's shoulder to steady himself with his free hand. "Surely you didn't move it to your back."

"That would be foolish," Soundwave agreed. As he had suspected, neither he nor Megatron were capable of generating enough charge for automatic system takeover from small levels of friction, but he found the experience pleasurable anyway. The charge generated by another in this manner had inherently different characteristics from the electricity Soundwave ran through his own systems, or even the shock that Megatron had sent through him as a weapon. The sensation felt more like something settling over his plating, warm and welcome.

"Tell me it's not hidden under your Minicon ports," Megatron grumbled after a few moments of fruitless searching.

Soundwave's mouth gaped further in silent laughter. Megatron would never guess without assistance, so Soundwave sent the command to transform his interfacing equipment to the surface of his armor, where it sat exactly as it should. Megatron's optics focused immediately on the pulsing purple biolights outlining it.

"That's obscene," he said, admiration in his voice as he reached for it. Soundwave tilted his head and extended his feelers in question. "Yes, of course."

Soundwave pulled his hand away from Megatron's heated interface panel and moved a feeler there instead, luxuriating in the feel of Megatron's shifting abdominal wiring as Megatron's claws traced over him. The charge was just enough that Soundwave's paneling retracted automatically with only a few touches, and Megatron made a soft, wordless noise as his claws caught on Soundwave's rapidly-cycling dataport instead of smooth armor.

Soundwave keened. It had been a long time since he'd allowed anyone to touch him this intimately. He reveled in the sensation for only a moment, though, before he spread malleable protometal from his feelers into the gaps in Megatron's interface plating, sending tiny zings of charge through Megatron's systems until the disused paneling creaked and snapped back with an almost painful sound. Megatron gasped.

Soundwave didn't look at Megatron's equipment; he mapped with his feelers instead. Megatron had smooth, beautiful ports, every single groove unmarred by the scarring and dents of Megatron's outer plating. Even the dataport, a lingering remnant of a time before wireless transfer, warmed beautifully at Soundwave's touch. Megatron's jacks, too, were perfect, the locking plates rising automatically to meet Soundwave's protometal. The claws of Megatron's free hand closed around Soundwave's thigh as his dataport moved into an automatic cycle, closing down and trying to lock around the tendril Soundwave had inside of it. Megatron gasped again, and Soundwave realized that this was likely the first time his dataport had tried to reset its dimensions, the first time his locking plates had flared.

Soundwave had experienced tenderness before for his Minicon partners. He had never experienced this much for _Megatron_ , who had no need for such an emotion. But Soundwave found himself wanting to make sure Megatron enjoyed this, thoroughly, that he experienced no pain or roughness.

"Soundwave," Megatron said, his voice a husky growl. "Cross them!"

Soundwave inclined his head and curled his feeler around the base of Megatron's data jack where it met the cable. He coaxed it carefully from its housing, making sure not to pull even though it unspooled in fits and starts rather than the smooth deployment of someone experienced with interfacing. Slowly, slowly, it unspooled enough that Soundwave could press the tip against his dataport. He could feel it cycle eagerly at the sensation, ready to accept whatever girth the jack had to offer but ready to make the slide in a tight one. Soundwave pulled back and met Megatron's eyes as he slowly began to push the jack in. He could feel Megatron shudder with every groove Soundwave pushed him past, could feel the flare of the jack's locking plates trying to kick in too early just to catch more of that friction.

Finally, too soon, the jack sat fully seated in Soundwave's port, and Soundwave allowed the final cycle to take place, keening again as the jack's locking plates flared into the grooves, filling him. Megatron's faceplates relaxed into an expression Soundwave almost never glimpsed: unchecked awe.

Soundwave allowed himself another grin as his own data jack cabling unspooled. He needed no guidance, and Megatron was in no condition to offer it anyway, still caught by the physical sensation of being hooked into another's systems. Soundwave's jack nosed around to Megatron's dataport, and only then did Soundwave slip his protometal out, filling Megatron's charge ports instead.

Megatron's claws tightened on Soundwave's thigh again, and he made a hissing noise. Soundwave would have raised his feeler, would have offered some sort of comforting touch, but all of his attention had fixed on trying to take the connection as slow as possible. He had no interest in scratching those smooth grooves by being too rough, and Megatron's inability to control his own cycling meant that his port clamped down far too tight on the jack as soon as it began to slide in. It took all of Soundwave's self control to keep the jack perfectly smooth, not letting the locking plates move at all until he was in to the hilt. Then he let them flare.

 _"Soundwave,"_ Megatron said again, this time in a harsh, desperate whisper, and Soundwave took down his interface firewall after setting up a quick alert system from the surveillance cameras. Megatron was already too lost in his own head, in the newness of this pleasure, and Soundwave would not let either of them be taken unawares.

Data streamed in, rather than charge, unchecked: wonder and pleasure at the new sensations, unwavering trust, pleasant heat building in Megatron's head and down the lines of his safe discharge system. Soundwave shuddered and tucked himself closer to Megatron's chest, feeling the resultant delight reverberate down the connection as Megatron folded careful arms around him. Soundwave pushed a careful thought towards Megatron, the form of his assumptions about this interface and Megatron's agreement. There was no need for charge cables to come into play this time, with Soundwave's feeler still giving Megatron's charge ports playful licks of electricity.

Like this, Megatron had more confidence touching Soundwave; he could feel what Soundwave liked and exactly how much pressure his claws could exert before they grew uncomfortable. He could feel the limits of Soundwave's endurance, and Soundwave could feel the echoes of Megatron's joy and wonder at how much Soundwave was built to bend rather than break.

Soundwave always enjoyed the inflow of foreign data streams and different systems, whether they were sentient or not; he could establish a one-way connection with his feelers alone, thanks to his mods. But like this, Megatron's dataport tight around his jack and his own dataport locked around Megatron's, he could feel an intimacy of thought and touch that datastreams usually lacked. Here he, too, was vulnerable. Megatron trusted him, and Soundwave could feel that trust, and Megatron could feel that trust being revered, desired, _loved._

The overload occurred almost too soon, the shared joy and pleasure swamping both of their systems; overheated locking plates pressed simultaneously against each other's ports, then flattened to close the connection automatically as electrical discharge leapt into the nearest grounding plate. Soundwave carefully withdrew his protometal from Megatron's shuddering charge ports as he fell back into his own body to find his other feeler and arms wrapped around Megatron, Megatron's arms tight around him in turn.

"That was…" Megatron started, then shook his head. Soundwave knew; system synchronization had occurred, and he could feel the lingering ghost of Megatron's thoughts against his. He could feel worlds opened up to him, awe and reverence and the security of having someone who _understood_ and didn't pull away. He could feel the doubts that Megatron fought, the demons, and how Soundwave's unhesitating belief had built a temporary firewall against them. Megatron didn't finish the sentence. The words would be weak, sitting out in the open air instead of passed through the security of a physical link. "We will be doing that again, soon," he said instead.

Soundwave raised his feelers to stroke over Megatron's helmet. _"Soon,"_ he echoed, feeling contentment eclipse all other feeling inside of him.


End file.
